


Sinner

by UseFlamethrower



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 09:02:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13701243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UseFlamethrower/pseuds/UseFlamethrower
Summary: Yata Misaki is Homra's third in command, a title he is very proud of. As the vanguard of one of Japan's most influential, feared, and violent criminal gangs there's a lot expected of him; assassinations, kidnappings... but also maintaining an innocent double-life to keep cops off his trail.Entering into a relationship to play the sweet boyfriend, keeping his secret nightlife hidden from his lover, and juggling the lies that tie it all together prove to be more difficult than he thought, and Misaki undergoes a lot of daily stress and heartbreak trying to keep the two separate. But he has to tell Saru sometime, lest he find out some other way.





	Sinner

**Author's Note:**

> I love this AU and it was tons of fun to think up ideas for. It seems like it took forever to get the first chapter how I wanted but I think I'm satisfied with how it ended up. Many thousand thanks to **xladysaya** for talking over ideas with me, letting me throw headcanons at her, and also reading the first chapter for me (although I made some changes to surprise her ~).  
>  I accept requests through my tumblr @ShiroiDesu (though I can’t promise speed in writing), and I'm always open to talk too c: I just had a baby and now work full time so please be patient with me.

The call came in around late afternoon. 

The eight or so crew members sitting around had been expecting it - anticipating it even – some with idle hands that were itching in pockets or struggling to keep still at waist sides, others dutifully keeping busy somehow. Among the busy hands of one person lay the carefully disassembled parts of a handgun being cleaned before possible use. There was a strange intoxication that came with nights like these and even though the night had yet to even start, the participants of the party were already buzzed on adrenaline – some even drunk on it. Aside from the single voice speaking into the phone though, it was silent enough to hear a pin drop; the atmosphere thick and tense with the will of the group to head out, already. They’d pulled off rougher jobs for less gain than this one offered, but compensation wasn’t always a tangible thing; sometimes just the satisfaction of getting even on something was more than money could buy, and equally as satisfying.

“Got it,” said one voice among an otherwise quiet room, “I understand. Mm. Alright, we’ll get it done.” There were confirmations that had to be made before anyone headed out, and it was his job to make sure the facts were checked. Their track record was spotless so far; they’d made no mistakes on any aspect of a previous job and took great pride in that while doing what was possible at every step to keep it that way. Far from being perfectionists, the members of Homra simply lived to please and served their king, their boss, to the best of their abilities. As it turned out, the abilities of King Suoh’s clansmen were nothing to scoff at, but that said more about them as individuals than anything else; they’d only had humble upbringings at best and had to adapt on their own to the way they now lived. A ragtag group of delinquents in their younger years, they’d graduated to higher status now – or lower, depending on from which level of society they were being looked at from.

They were on the move now; one by one clicking weapons into place, fastening gear, and making last checks on the plan. It was fairly cut and dry - there wasn’t much to mistake - but they were careful planners when it came to work. The same couldn’t be said for some aspects of their personal lives, but no one was being paid to do laundry and keep their living spaces in order, they just did as they felt like it.

However, proper socialization was, in some ways, their job. Most members lived double-lives; keeping the dark business of work separate from an otherwise sunny lifestyle. They held day jobs some of them, too. It was a common misconception for gangsters, yakuza, and mafia that the extent of their work was spent in the poorly lit backroom of a bar or warehouse making shady deals with strangers and spilling blood almost haphazardly. That may be how amateurs did it but the professionals seamlessly blended into society to avoid any suspicion. Any officer who got wise and started asking questions would only be met with answers like, “Dewa-kun? He’s such a sweetheart, walks my dogs for me and even helped my daughter in school,” or “Yes, I know Chitose-san. He’s a real sweet boy – popular with the ladies of course, but it’s not his fault he has a pretty face and other boys don’t like it.”

Needless to say there were reasons why they’d flourished for so long and almost completely avoided rousing any suspicions toward their identities. As good as they were someone always had to be better, but, thankfully, that someone hadn’t come along yet. The next moment they were standing outside; each member discreetly ducked around corners, positioned on rooftops or in parking garages, or just casually walking down the street. The mark was a businessman, CEO to be exact. Their client wanted the man dead for his crimes against her family, and not a soul in Homra blamed her. The client meeting had been especially terrible the day they’d accepted the job. It was not unusual to meet clients like her, but it never got any easier.

_“I want this man erased from the world,” she said, sliding a picture across the table. There was no waver in her voice and her eyes were set in determination as she met the gaze of Suoh, Kusanagi, Totsuka, and Anna each squarely. If she had any doubts about what she was asking them to do or what she was getting herself into by coming to them, nothing about her appearance or tone betrayed her. It was impressive, and didn’t go unnoticed by any of those in the meeting._

Kusanagi handled the picture briefly to eye it over before passing it to Totsuka, Suoh, and eventually Anna. “And this man, has he wronged you?” Kusanagi asked.

“Yagiri is the CEO and current chairman of the company my father worked for. He put over 30 years of his life into that company to move up and secure a position and salary that he could support his family on. He’d been training a new recruit; showing him the ropes, taking him to meetings, and let him handle one of his own, even! Shortly after, he’d been getting more assignments than normal – more than he could handle on his own - but Yagiri insisted that everyone else’s workloads were the same and that they weren’t complaining and dad shouldn’t either. But the deadlines were unreasonable for what he had to accomplish in the time he was given!” her voice briefly shook and her fists closed on the fabric of her skirt. “When he couldn’t meet deadlines, Yagiri asked him what they were paying him so much for all those years. They let him go, Kusanagi-san. They pushed him out and replaced him with someone he trained and qualified, but with a lower salary so they could keep more money in their pockets.

Dad had saved enough to get us by for a while, but when the money dried up and nobody would hire him, we fell into debt. Dad killed himself. You know, Japan is amazing,” she gave a dark laugh as she said it; “There isn’t a single cause of death that negates an insurance payout. So dad, he suffocated himself with a plastic grocery bag so mom and I could use the money to pay the bills and keep the house… 

"But Kusanagi-san, Suoh-san… Dad’s life was worth more to us than what we got for his death. Mom and I, we moved in with dad’s sister and mom still goes to work, I’m working part-time while I go to school… We don’t need the blood money. I would rather see it pay for the justice the police and lawyers couldn’t get us. Mom doesn’t know the specifics, and she doesn’t need to, but I want to use it to pay for this job.

"I don’t want evidence that they were deliberately pushing dad to the edge, or for Yagiri to be imprisoned for any kind of corruption. I want him dead and I want it in dad’s name, for the revenge we’ll never see the law give us,” tears were running down her cheeks at this point. As determined as she was, and as much strength as her hatred gave her, the reality was that her father had died leaving behind ample money, but nowhere near enough to buy back his life that she so desperately would have preferred over any kind of comfort that could be bought.

The members of Homra knew it well, the feeling of wanting to protect something. It was easy to see where her father was coming from in securing that money for his family, but the family he left behind would have downsized their home, sold their cars and commuted on public transportation, lived even more modestly - anything as long as they could have stayed together.  
**There is more than one way to provide for someone, after all,** Kusanagi thought as he took the final drag of his cigarette and twisted the bud into a nearby ashtray. The four members of Homra in the meeting met each other with similar stares. **That’s it then, we’re all in agreement? Alright.**

“We’ll take your case, miss. Rest assured Yagiri is nothing more than a dead man walking, now.”

That brought them back to the present with all enforcing members of Homra stationed for the attack.

“I’m ready here,” Chitose said quietly. He nearly whispered it, but the earbud they were all provided with had an excellent ability to pick up even the faintest of sounds. It was an excellent pathway for communication between spread out members of the gang, and it looked natural speaking into and listening to what was being said, as well. It beat walkie talkies, cell phones, and in-person exchanges that could potentially tip off the mark or any police nearby.

Chitose’s position was atop one of the higher levels of a parking garage a few blocks from the mark’s place of work. From there he could see the ground from a bird’s eye view and keep track of the target using a pocket binocular as he walked the streets. Chitose never lost anyone when he worked long distance surveillance; it was one of his finest points. More often than not, he mapped out and memorized the area beforehand and familiarized himself with every single turn or corner. The more information they collected the easier it was to guarantee results.

“Me too,” Bando said next to him. The second phase of the plan for the two of them was due in part to Bando’s careful planning. He had a talent for using the target’s quirks and preferences in taking alternate routes - left or right at forks in a road, for example - to put together a fairly accurate plan for exactly where to run interference. This time, though not always, Bando was that interference. He staked his name on the accuracy of what he came up with, and this time he guaranteed that Yagiri would take the alley across from his normal route to end up slightly ahead of where he usually made his turn into the parking lot where his car was parked.

“My job’s all done. I’m headed to my next point,” Dewa commented in a serious tone. His skills as a thief far exceeded any slight-of-hand skills anyone else possessed. He was quick to open a lock whether it was mechanical or traditional, and his knack for carjacking that he’d honed over the years was far from rusty and more like a polished diamonds among the rough. Dewa handled himself the best of everyone else, as well; he operated in a controlled, methodical manner and often finished his delegated job before anyone else. Although… much to everyone else’s chagrin he then took advantage of the free time by pointing out flaws in another’s work. This minute character flaw was overlooked though when it was weighed against Dewa’s eye for security. He had a gift in locating cameras, undercover operatives, and even transmitters and microphones. It was like a sixth sense he had that itched when he entered any room. _Something’s not right here_ , he would think.

His job was to disable Yagiri’s car in the lot on the off chance that all other measures were bypassed and the man managed to get to the vehicle. With that done, next he had to rendezvous with Kusanagi just outside the gated complex of Yagiri’s apartment to let him in and raid the mark’s apartment for anything that could be remotely incriminating.

The client had said she didn’t care if Yagiri’s name was tarnished, but the consensus between the higher ranking members of Homra was that if the client’s father had been run out of the company, there was a large possibility that others had as well, and they wanted those names. Any documents or emails exchanged that could prove in a court of law that in fact the CEO had been abusing his employees would also be nice, but they weren’t holding their breaths.

“The area is secure,” Eric’s voice rang. He’d been careful to ensure there were no potential witnesses in the area that may see them and be able to identify anyone. Not that he’d have minded a few passersby to get rid of after the job was all said and done. It was incredibly boring being the garbage man and not have any litter to pick up… But he did have the joy of handling a beaten and bloody Yagiri after the higher up was done with him, so there was that. _I guess it’s the simple pleasures in life…_ He thought.

Mulling it over, he wished the clan accepted more of the gruesome stuff. It’d been a long time since he’d been inside someone’s house with mop and bucket cleaning brain matter off the wall. The arterial spray from the job after that was impressive too, but much more difficult to clean up since it coated concrete. _The struggles in the life of the one man clean-up crew._ Although he often acted disgruntled at the idea of doing his job he was more than proficient at it and truly did enjoy it, also.

“Good here.” Fujishima’s voice was a breath of fresh air in times like these where everyone else was waiting for the beat-down to start. He was a kind guy all around and it made the others wonder sometimes what the hell he was doing there. Fujishima was the buffer between fights, often breaking them up as needed whether it was between his own friends or two enemy gang members that happened upon each other. He was not a guy who enjoyed conflict and because of that there were very few who distrusted him despite where his loyalties lied. Somehow or another he was the muscle of the underlings and provided the strength necessary to break otherwise impenetrable walls of defense. A guy like him that picked up strays and fostered the wounded made everyone else seem like evil incarnate in comparison. _Really, what the hell is he doing here?_

“Same,” Kamamoto’s deeper baritone was the last confirmation. As for him… well, no one really knew what Kamamoto did. That’s not to say he didn’t contribute, because he certainly did, just in less obvious ways that weren’t like the others.

“That’s everyone then, good, we’re right on schedule,” the voice that had talked on the receiving end of earlier’s phone call said. Yata served as Homra’s third in command and he wore the title with pride. His daily duties usually included leading the other seven around, but he was also the quality inspector for their missions. He was no perfectionist, but a certain level of standard had to be met or else they ran the risk of getting caught. The ramifications of that would be terrifying – Suoh would kill them all, or worse, kick them out.

The target was in sight by now and was exiting the building he owned via the front door at a slow pace. He dropped his briefcase gently to fish out his keys and locked behind himself before picking up his baggage and starting his walk down the street toward where he parked every day. Unexcited, it would take him only two-and-a-half minutes to reach his car so Yata’s crew had to make a move soon. The redhead gave the signal after Yagiri crossed the chalk line they’d drawn earlier to mark the end of the security camera’s field of view – all thanks to Dewa. _Shoutout to Dewa, I guess,_ Yata thought briefly.

“Alright guys, it’s on. Roll out,” Yata whispered as he and Kamamoto pushed off of the brick wall adjacent to Yagiri’s building to start walking behind him. A collective “got it” resounded in his earbud not even half of a second later followed by a small, whispered “autobots” and a snicker that he knew came from Chitose, but whatever. It was followed by the consistent, dull, and almost final sound of wood dragging on gravel as Yata walked. He didn’t always carry his bat with him for jobs, but this seemed like a special enough case to warrant it - especially considering what he used his bat for.

First up was Chitose to confirm he had a lock on the target with his binoculars from his position. Check. “I got him. Somehow he looks exactly like what I expected, but also not at all…”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Dewa’s voice chided.

Second, Kamamoto and Yata had to startle Yagiri to send him running into the waiting arms of Akagi and Bando. That didn’t seem like it’d be too hard.

Kamamoto was the first to make them both obvious to the mark just ahead of them. He was a heavy set guy and his footsteps reflected that in the sound they made when he walked. While normally he paid extra attention to land quieter on his feet to avoid giving away that he was there, he let his stride speak for him when the situation called for the obvious. It had the desired effect when Yagiri turned to look over his shoulder to see where the noise was coming from. Kamamoto could be terrifying on his own just because of his size. Yagiri seemed to agree with that if the way he clutched his briefcase to his chest was any indication. If he was trying to hide or seem unsuspicious, it wasn’t working.

Now, Yata on his own wasn’t overly intimidating; from afar he could be mistaken for a surly teenager that needed their mouth washed out with soap. That was the most misleading thing about him and it bothered him that his height wasn’t something he could do anything about… But he could be scary to face up close. Close encounters were where his reputation came from.

It was time to give Yagiri a close encounter. With bat in hand and the other shuffling for a stone at his feet while walking, Yata bunted the small projectile hard causing it to whiz past Yagiri. He’d purposefully missed him, but it seemed like that had scared the target more which made Yata laugh to himself in a dark, lofty chuckle. Intimidation was his favorite part of the hunt. Yagiri started walking faster at that point but Kamamoto and Yata didn’t quicken their pace to keep up with him; instead they catcalled him and asked where he thought he was going so fast. It had to be obvious they were following him for the plan to work but that didn’t mean they had to run.

And it did work. At the pivotal corner, Yagiri turned sharply toward a short but dark alleyway connecting the street he’d been on to one closer to where the parking garage he’d left his car was at. He didn’t know it quite yet but just out of his view was where Akagi and Bando were waiting for him in the glow of a streetlight. As Yagiri crossed the threshold between alleyway and sidewalk of a main street he was quickly handled by his shoulders and pushed against the nearby brick of a foreclosed building with a force that couldn’t be considered gentle. Either because he was startled or reacting to the pain none of them could be quite sure, but Yagiri made a short gasping sound.

“Nice job, guys. No matter how many times I see it you never fail to surprise me with those predictions of yours.” Chitose was easily surprised though and was also the easiest to say “I told you so” to, so Bando didn’t take his statement too seriously or reply to it.

“Wha – who are you? What do you all want?” Great, they had to deal with a panicking target now. Yagiri was talking loud enough for Akagi and Bando’s earbud to pick up his voice which resulted in all of the members being forced to listen. “I’ll give you whatever you want, just don’t hurt me! Do you even know who I am!?” He handled his briefcase more tightly and kept it to his chest.

“Of course we know who you are, but rather than saving you that’s more like what’s damning you!” Yata spoke a little louder than what would be considered an inside voice. It wasn’t quite a yell but he had to make up for the distance between himself and Yagiri. That, more than the sound of Kamamoto and Yata’s footsteps approaching, kept Yagiri from speaking anymore.

Yata with bat at the ready and Kamamoto at his side came into focus just a few breaths later, emerging from the same dank alley that Yagiri had and entering into the light - although not the one that brought peace or forgiveness. Yagiri was certainly going to receive his judgement, though.

“What do you want? Is it money, property, information; I can get you anything you want!” Yata didn’t answer, instead opting to stand in front of Yagiri in silence. Hauling his bat over one shoulder in the standard position to hit Yata locked in eye contact, his eyes murderous slits as he glared at the shrinking man in front of him. Akagi and Bando let go of the target’s shoulders in preparation for what was to come but stayed flanked on either side to prevent Yagiri from running. “Who are you people?!”  
“This guy asks too many questions.” Chitose complained as he spied from above and afar. Audio was still coming through the earbuds and it was draining to listen to someone who was supposed to be so hard and so cruel begging for his life and trying to barter his way out.

“Kill him already, Yata.” Eric was bored, that much was obvious. He was usually quiet during jobs unless he felt like he didn’t have enough to do.  
“We need another few minutes, here.” Papers were rustling and the sounds of things being tossed in the background were audible from Dewa’s earbud. Apparently he’d rendezvoused with Kusanagi and was in the midst of looking for that incriminating evidence they wanted.

“You know, you ask a lot of questions,” Akagi laughed as he hunched over Yagiri. _Damn your height, Akagi!_ Yata was tempted to grit out his bitterness, but held it in. The man shifted closer to Bando as a result to move further from Akagi, and a flash of realization crossed his face as he seemed to register the fact that he’d seen Akagi before. They’d even spoken briefly, if memory served.

“That’s what I said!” Chitose whined. Being out of the thick of things was bad for these situations; he wasn’t in the action to say his one-liners to the enemy, instead somebody like Akagi or Eric stole them! Dewa could be heard scolding him a second later but the four men on scene didn’t intervene. It’d break the mood they’d just built if they started bickering in front of the target.

“Well, ya see, Yagiri-san, we’re not gonna answer all of your questions because there really isn’t a point. What secrets can a dead man spoil, hm? The short end of it is that you’ve crossed some people and those people want you crossed back.” Yata made mock swinging motions with his bat with each stroke ending at about knee height on Yagiri as he spoke, and the three other Homra members snickered. Yata got into proper stance and braced himself, winding his bat back behind his head as he explained the next part. “So we’re going to put you through two and a half minutes of hell like you put the families of the people you fired through hell.”

**CRACK.**

A sickening sound resonated through the air as soon as the last syllable fell from Yata’s mouth. Releasing all of the potential energy he’d built in one swing Yata made direct contact with one of Yagiri’s kneecaps, effectively breaking it in and bending the joint backwards and into an unnatural position. The rough wood from the surface of Yata’s bat had been sanded to remove the veneer polish that made it smooth, and the similar hits it had inflicted on people and concrete wore the wood into an uneven shape. Because of this it was no surprise that Yagiri’s leg started to bleed from the hit. Most notably, however, was the scream that was torn loose from the man’s throat at the pain.

Yagiri slumped immediately before falling directly onto his knees, or at least the one good one he had. The injury made it impossible for him to kneel or bend his leg, so it lay awkwardly outstretched to his side. He attempted to reach out to cradle it when –

“Ah, ah, ah, I don’t think so.” Akagi grabbed Yagiri by the hair, fisting his fingers through the strands to get a grip before wrenching him back up to stand. Yagiri cried in pain, his injury agitated by the motion, and fat tears welled in his eyes before falling off his face. The butt of Kamamoto’s revolver was next to strike and left a deep, bloody trail down that soaked face that surely would scar if given time to heal. Ha. While Akagi held him by his hair, Bando grabbed Yagiri’s arm and assisted in keeping him upright. Blood still pooled from the injury his knee had taken, and now the same dark fluid was steadily dripping from his face, too.

His pant leg was slightly dented outward behind the knee - it was an injury Yata was famous for, actually. It was no small feat to knock a broken bone right out of the body. Yagiri was in shock though and the adrenaline coursing through his body did well to mask the higher level pain. He’d be feeling it later though, most likely at a very inconvenient time.

“It looks like you’ll have plenty to do, Eric,” Chitose whispered with mild amusement. A sinister chuckle was his answering reply. Wherever the blond was he was no doubt watching too, just like Chitose.

“Who – who’s paying you to do this? I’ll pay double; triple it even, if you let me go… I – I don’t deserve this!” Yagiri’s pleading was getting old. Bando’s grip on his arm tightened and he extended the limb briefly before snapping the joint backwards. Yagiri screamed, his howling cry echoing off the empty buildings in the abandoned business district this late at night. A whack followed the scream as it ended and snapped Yagiri’s head to the right, straining his neck with the force he was hit with. Yata’s bat had made contact with his cheekbone – hard. It was probably broken. It had happened so suddenly that when Yagiri winced and cried from the pain, it was almost a reflex following the hit, and not really in direct response to it.

“Now, we’re going to let you go, Yagiri-san, just like you asked. Only we’re going to play a game that I’m sure you’ve heard of.” Yata gestured with a quick flick of his eyebrows toward Akagi and Bando who let go of the target after. Yagiri slumped and tensed at having to bare his weight on his knee without the support of the two Homra boys but he looked up at Yata to show he was listening. The blood from his pistol whipping earlier was starting to trail over his brows and eyes. “You’re going to run, Yagiri-san, and we’re going to chase you down. If you get away you win, no strings attached. But if we catch you, well, I hope you have your affairs in order.”

Yata and the boys stepped back from the weeping and bleeding mess that they’d reduced Yagiri to. Said male straightened himself up best he could and, with possibly his last breath of the night, he said “You’re all going to get what’s coming to you very soon.”

 _We should be saying that to you, jackass._ “You’re wasting time, Yagiri. You should go now; we’re not patient people.” Bando stepped to the side and left his direction clear for Yagiri to escape. Within the minute, the target took the chance and darted off, hobbling to the best of his abilities as he panted and whined. Being forced to walk on a bad leg with bone exposed, and cradling his now broken arm, not to mention the state his face was in from a pistol whipping and batting to the face, Yagiri had odds stacked against him. _If I can just – I just have to make it into my car…_ He stumbled at one point and left a bloody handprint on the glass window he leaned on to support himself as he tried to get away, pushing off of it with force to get some momentum going forward.

Chitose took note of each place blood was left behind and charted it on a large paper map they had printed out earlier that day. Later Eric would retrace that path to erase any and all evidence left behind. Actually, if he was doing his job correctly then Eric should have started moving into place already.

A ten second head start seemed fair enough – more than gracious actually. When those ten seconds were over, Chitose’s voice was back in everyone’s ear. “He’s following the path Bando said he would; he won’t make it too far though, he’s pretty messed up.” Chitose paused briefly before he laughed and started up again, almost talking to himself he spoke so quietly, “I see he got your specialty, Yata.”

Following that information, Yata and Kamamoto took one path and Akagi and Bando took another. Yata and Bando on their respective routes ran, while their partners either walked or jogged leisurely behind them. It wasn’t important to catch him at the same time as long as someone did, and even if they misjudged the timing he still wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. Not one to admit that he didn’t believe in guarantees and always had a backup plan, Bando had improvised and lifted the target’s keys on his own, just for good measure in case Dewa - for all his skill - hadn’t done his job right for once.

Maybe they’d keep the car. Maybe Dewa could reverse whatever he did so they could take it in and scrap it for some profit. Maybe assign it a new VIN and have it as a Homra car… The crew was always looking for a new getaway vehicle, or even a personal one.

On Yata’s path that was following Yagiri’s exactly, Kamamoto kept his eyes open on the off chance they’d missed someone or something. They hadn’t yet in the years they’d been doing this kind of thing but one fuck up could be all it took…

If Yata was quality control at the source, Kamamoto was a dutiful research assistant double checking for possible contamination after the fact. Kamamoto was one of few people Yata allowed to check him like that; it was the reason they were partners. Somehow or another every member of Homra was paired with the person who got them best – undeniable chemistry. It had its ups and downs, more ups maybe, but often times it messed up member relationships – having the one person who could really get under their skin so close by.

Chitose and Dewa had a relationship like that in the beginning, but they’d more or less worked their feelings out enough to be able to work together again. The same could be said for Akagi and Bando, and Eric and Fujishima.  
Yata and Kamamoto had always gotten along in situations related to work. And personally, well, they each thought the other was a stand-up guy. They didn’t see much of each in daily life though. Fraternizing with members in non emergency situations outside of Homra was frowned upon – if one member went down, everyone else was a suspect just for being seen with him. Working at the bar a few nights a week together was definitely a link and definitely provided some grounds for suspicions, but nothing entirely damning. There was only so far the law could stretch circumstantial evidence, after all, and working together was a circumstance.

Bando was about tied with Yata in terms of position lateral to the target and Akagi was doing for him what Kamamoto was doing for Yata. Nothing noteworthy on the Akagi/Bando front came up for Akagi to report. It seemed like it was going to be an easy night.

“Dewa, what exactly did you do to disable the target’s car?” Akagi asked. His leisurely stroll behind Bando was almost scenic what with the moon out and everything and it wasn’t like they need him at the moment so…. small talk wouldn’t hurt, right? And he really was curious.

“I disconnected the wires to the battery, and Yata, we’re done here. We got the names we wanted but as for the other thing –” a closing door and muffled voices speaking in the background of Dewa’s mic seemed to have caught his attention because he stopped speaking prematurely. After some seconds of radio silence he returned to say, “Okay, the rest is up to you guys.”

“Mn, good job.” Yata had the target in his sight and as expected, he didn’t make it very far. It looked like he had fallen at some point and tried to catch himself on a street light post. There was a bloody handprint left behind that was badly smudged and mixed moans and sobbing were coming from his mouth as he lay face down halfway into the street. Still, he’d made it further than what Yata would have bet. And he’d also bothered to run; they’d had marks before that had known the odds weren’t in their favor, and refused to run and be sport for the hunters waiting to chase. If Yagiri knew he wasn’t going to make it, he still put up a valiant effort. But something was missing.

“I kn – I know what you’re looking for, and you won’t find it – it at my house.” Yagiri had to have heard Yata’s footsteps. Slowly turning his head from looking at his right side to his left, he lifted his face to make eye contact with Yata through weak eyes. He was choking and gasping as he spoke, probably from the run and screaming earlier, but he seemed confident despite having to know he was going to die.

“Oh yeah, and what are we looking for that we aren’t gonna find?” Yata was more confident though. He stood over Yagiri’s left side to look down on him, one of his feet just a few inches shy of where Yagiri’s hand was palming the ground. He’d probably tried to catch himself as he fell but having one fucked up arm put a dent in that plan.

“The evidence.” Yagiri’s simple, two word reply was enough confirmation for Yata that it existed and Dewa and Kusanagi-san just hadn’t found it. Meaning it really wasn’t at his home… But the only other place could be – wait, where was…?

“Chitose, did you see Yagiri drop or ditch anything on his way; say, his briefcase?” Yata’s smirk was predatory as Chitose hummed back. “Yes, I did. Kamamoto is getting it now, since it was along your route.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” Yata stomped on Yagiri’s spread fingers with the heel of his foot and grinded them into the pavement with his weight bearing into it all the while. More than a few bones broke and Yagiri’s scream muffled in the cement. Apparently he didn’t have the energy or will to fight anymore; Yagiri made no more attempts to buy his freedom and he obviously couldn’t get up. They’d gone over the two and a half minutes they promised in the beginning but who was really keeping count, anyway? _Let’s get this shit over with then._

“Yagiri-san, you’ve used up your borrowed time and given away the only bargaining chip you might have had. It’s time to send you back to where you belong.” The sound of additional footsteps was heard before an overexcited Eric came into view. Standing and squatting over Yagiri’s back he held the mark’s head with both hands. A quick snap was all it took as Eric twisted his hands quickly and effectively broke Yagiri’s neck. A painless death and fairly clean, but satisfying nonetheless just because it was finally the blond who got to deal the last of the damage.

Eric released Yagiri’s skull to check for a pulse briefly before he leaned back to sit on the now dead man’s waist and looked up to Yata. He smirked - a creepy expression given that the top half of his face was shadowed by the hood he wore.  
“We’re done then. Everyone pack up. Eric, you’re on your own like always.”

“Roger,” the blond mouthed quietly as he began to rise to his feet. With means of body disposal worked out ahead of time, the only remaining job was getting Yagiri from point A to B. There were also the red handprints he’d left but that wouldn’t be too hard. _I never would have pegged Yagiri as a guy into finger painting, heh._ Not much to it as it turned out. Eric was a professional - among other things.

Some weeks later, Yagiri was reported missing and assumed fled. In the police’s best efforts to track him down a warrant to search his home and office was executed looking for anything that might implicate a suspect. No fingerprints other than his own were found during the dusting, no signs of forced entry at any window or door, and no blood showed up under crime scene luminol or UV light. What the police did find though were printed email exchanges between the CEO and several executive officers planning out the details in firing senior employees to improve profits. Although Yagiri was missing he was also a wanted man, and following his safe recovery he would be tried and imprisoned.

“I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for my family, Kusanagi-san, Suoh-san, Totsuka-san, and Kushina-san,” the client smiled as she said it and bowed low to show her gratitude. “Ah, no no. About that, actually, you don’t need to thank us. We only did what should’ve been done in the beginning.” Kusanagi sounded almost lamentful as he spoke, possibly disappointed that there was nothing legal that could have been done to give her the justice she deserved. “Homra really picks up where the law leaves off, don’t they? I’m satisfied with the service you’ve provided me with; peace of mind worth every cent.” The client smiled radiantly, smoothing out her skirt when she straightened herself. She excused herself a moment later and left the four - five - people remaining to consider her words.

Yata, who had missed the client meeting but was present for the follow-up, emerged from the corner he’d been sitting in as soon as the client had left. “… Kusanagi-san we’re not -” _really like heroes doing good deeds_ he’d meant, but was cut off almost immediately.

Kusanagi took a draw from his cigarette. “You’re not at an age where I’d expect you to know this Yata-chan, but good and evil have always been meant to walk hand-in-hand; they can’t be by themselves. While it’s true that we’re not exactly good people, the other side of that is that sometimes the people who come to us _are_ and they need us to walk with them down a path they can’t take by themselves.”

Yata didn’t get it, but he thought that maybe someday he might.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully the major things were explained well. Homra is a gang with its own agenda and they take on jobs to advance their goals but they also accept jobs (hits or kidnappings) from outside clients if the money is good. That portion was inspired from a TNT show called Leverage and it’s super good! In this case the client happened to want revenge for her dad’s death, but not all of the jobs they take are to play modern day Robin Hood (they’re usually a lot more dark and explicit).


End file.
